Death Beyond the Limit: Fiji Islands Mysteries 3

by B. M. Allsopp

  ‘Bula, Joe. Any news?’

  ‘Bula Salome. Io, the SOCOs checked everything in Jimmy’s suitcase and found a few hairs with roots attached and a piece of torn fingernail. They’re much better for extracting DNA than hair which has been cut. So, I’m giving this back to you. Vinaka vakalevu.’ He took the envelope out of his pocket and gave it to her.

  ‘Is there any hope for Jimmy?’ Tears welled in her eyes. She patted them with a tissue. He supposed she didn’t want to smudge her make-up.

  ‘The only possibility I can see is that another Fijian man was wearing Jimmy’s ring. I know Jimmy was the only Fijian aboard Joy-13. I don’t think it’s likely, do you?’

  Salome shook her head and looked away.

  ‘The DNA results will settle that question for sure. Perhaps tomorrow. Moce, Salome.’

  He walked to the next streetlight, where a cab stopped for him. He asked to be driven to Princess Wharf, to help the inexperienced surveillance team.

  TUESDAY 19th September

  26

  Horseman was strung out on tenterhooks waiting for the DNA results. He checked both his physical and digital inboxes every other minute and didn’t stray beyond reach of a phone. Singh was at Immigration, Musudroka and Kau were sleeping off their first night’s surveillance at the wharf.

  There was no point ringing the lab, they were doing all they could.

  Telecom technicians dismantled the hotline set-up, rolling up cables and packing their boxes. Lacking a physical task, Horseman busied himself moving the detectives’ furniture back to its usual places. The two technicians rushed to lend a hand. Nice helpful guys, efficient. Too bad the open office was restored completely in fifteen minutes.

  He sat down at his desk and filled in search warrant applications for the TTF offices and Joy-13. They would be ready to go as soon as he got the call about Jimmy’s DNA. He left the date blank, just in case the results didn’t come through today. The section detailing the evidence that justified the search, he also left blank. He could have filled it in, but something held him back. He surprised himself; he who sneered at superstition.

  Singh rushed in at half-past ten, bits of hair escaping her bun, one sleeve yanked down by a strap of her backpack so the edge of her top was almost off her shoulder. She still looked neat by normal standards but dishevelled by her own.

  ‘Anything yet?’ she asked.

  Horseman shook his head. ‘Good morning, Singh.’

  She seemed distracted. ‘Sorry, yes, good morning.’ Her smile was worried.

  ‘What happened at Immigration?’

  ‘Well, I guess you got my text?’

  ‘Yes, that’s why I’m asking.’

  ‘Okay, let me recap this frustrating business. I called yesterday afternoon, but the officious woman wouldn’t even consider checking the computer for me because it was fifteen minutes before knock-off time. So, this morning I’m waiting on their doorstep, well, at reception, until a few data entry ladies stroll in late, chatting away. The effort of getting to work apparently exhausts them, because they spend half an hour making tea, using the toilet and goodness knows what else. After that, they deign to arrange themselves at their desks. I ended up knocking on the counter and announcing myself most politely. They were not impressed that a police detective wanted some vital information from them. You know, I’m so glad I don’t work with a gaggle of women!’

  He was amused. ‘Singh, I’ve never seen you in such a mood. It’s me who’s the grumpy one, you’re supposed to be a lesson in calm.’

  ‘Not today.’ She smoothed her hair and adjusted her top. ‘Well, the grudging work of ten seconds established that the Joy-13 info hasn’t been entered yet. Then two of them searched through the cards waiting to be entered on four separate work stations. Hurray, someone found them, but—’

  ‘Oh no, not a but. But what?’ Horseman was relieved that the cards did actually exist.

  ‘But the photocopier’s broken down. I offered to check it myself, I’m not bad with criminal photocopiers, as you know. But they wouldn’t let me. I suggested bringing the cards here to copy them but that was a no-no, too. I mean, how could they be safe in a police station!’ She flung up her hands.

  ‘Go on,’ he said.

  ‘So I offered to photograph them with my phone but they looked at me like I was proposing espionage.’

  He laughed out loud, he couldn’t help it. She looked reproachful at first, but after a bit she smiled. ‘I suppose it’s a bit funny,’ she admitted.

  ‘You’re the funny one, Singh. Please don’t leave me in suspense.’

  ‘I threatened them with a search warrant to seize the cards. They couldn’t believe it. Final upshot—Mrs Patel and Mrs Sikivou have taken the cards to copy on another machine in a different section. But they insisted I return in an hour to pick them up. I mean, there are no more than twenty cards!’

  ‘Double-sided though! Well done, Singh. I’ve got the search warrants filled in and ready to go to the magistrate the moment we get the word from DNA.’

  ‘I’ve got to update the case file unless you’ve another job for me. I intended to do it last night, but somehow I didn’t get back.’

  That was unusual for Singh. ‘Fine, I hope you got some rest. Go ahead and do it now.’

  ‘I’ll call Toby Shaddock and apply a bit of pressure.’

  Shaddock didn’t pick up the call to his mobile, but when Horseman dialled the TTF general number he was switched through to Shaddock’s office.

  ‘As you know, Mr Shaddock, there are irregularities with Joy-13’s compliance with port entry protocols. We’ve found out this morning that there’s a problem with the Immigration records too. I need to talk to the Captain about all of this today, so we can fix this situation up and avoid the possibility of police charges being laid.’

  ‘I’d like to help, Inspector, but I have no idea of his whereabouts from one minute to the next. I’ll certainly let him know you’d like to see him today.’

  ‘It’s more than like if we’re to avoid holding Joy-13 in port while the captain answers serious charges. I’m trying to be polite, but this is official, Mr Shaddock.’

  ‘I’m not sure you can order the master of a foreign vessel to attend a Suva police station, Inspector. However, I’m sure the captain will be happy to talk to you when he finds out you’re looking for him. By the way, Captain Shen doesn’t speak English.’

  ‘No problem for us. I’ll arrange an interpreter. Which language would he prefer to use for the interview?’

  There was silence for a few moments.

  ‘I’ll ask him and let you know. Probably Hakka or Mandarin.’

  ‘How do you communicate with Captain Shen?’

  ‘I use Mandarin. But that’s the only Chinese language I’m fluent in. I’m a registered interpreter of Mandarin to English myself. I could translate for you.’

  ‘That’s interesting. How did you become fluent in Mandarin?’

  ‘University in New Zealand, followed by working for TTF in Taiwan for some years.’

  ‘Impressive. I expect to see the captain later today, then.’

  ‘I can only do my best, Inspector.’

  ‘I understand. But if he doesn’t turn up, we’ll push ahead with Plan B, which is to deploy uniformed officers to guard Joy-13, and control entry and exit.’

  ‘We’ll try to avoid that, Inspector. Goodbye.’

  *

  Singh returned smiling from her second visit to Immigration of the morning.

  ‘Success?’ Horseman asked.

  She slid her backpack from her shoulders and extracted a buff government envelope. She handed it over. ‘I don’t think I’d have them yet if the section manager hadn’t dropped in at the same time as me. He couldn’t have been more helpful. I’ve got the copies of the cards, and I can confirm that there isn’t one for Jimmy. In that envelope, you’ll also find a memory stick with scans of the passport ID page for every crew member. I’ve got Jimmy’s too. The manager sai
d he’ll email a digital file of their data when his staff have entered it in their database.’

  ‘Vinaka, Singh. That’s real progress.’

  ‘I probably should have gone through the section head in the first place. Just thought I’d cut out the middleman. I never imagined Immigration staff would treat a police request so flippantly.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. A lesson for next time, perhaps. Just in case Captain Shen does honour us with his presence, can you—’

  He snatched up the phone at the first ring. When he heard who was calling, he switched to speakerphone.

  ‘Inspector Horseman, we’ve got a match between the head and the DNA samples from Semesi Inia’s clothing. The report isn’t ready yet, but I know you’re waiting on this. I’ll email you the report as soon as it’s done. Should be later this afternoon.’

  ‘Vinaka vakalevu. Wonderful news. I really appreciate you moving this one to the top of the queue. A lot’s hanging on this.’

  ‘Happy to help. I’m glad it’s the result you wanted.’

  Horseman grabbed his search warrant applications. ‘As I was saying when I was so rudely interrupted, let’s get ready to interview the captain: photos, the lot. We want to scare him.’

  ‘I’m on it!’ She jumped up.

  Horseman rushed away to tell the super and get the search warrants signed.

  27

  The spectacular sunset views drew diners to the Garden Grill, perched high above Suva on the western escarpment. Brij said there was no point arriving after it was dark. He wanted to pick her up at the station at quarter to six so he could drive her. Really, it was to make sure he wasn’t sitting on his own waiting for her as usual. Fair enough, too.

  Singh convinced him it would be impossible to park near the station and promised to call him if she was running late. She would try her best to be on time.

  When she followed the waiter through the glass-walled dining room to the terrace, she understood what the fuss was about. The low sun silvered the deep green sea and blazed the serried hills with colour. The jumbled town of Suva was hidden.

  ‘Aren’t I clever?’ Brij asked. ‘From this table we can both watch the sun setting over the sea.’

  ‘Very clever. I’ve heard about this place but never been here. Wow, I didn’t imagine it would be so, well, beautiful.’

  It was much too expensive for her and for anyone she knew. She was no stranger to the cheaper Chinese and Indian restaurants in central Suva—pizza places too, but Brij’s favourites were a few notches above hers. At least. But he insisted on paying for her meal, saying that was non-negotiable. It would be easy to get used to a higher life.

  ‘Don’t expect too much of the food—it’s not on a par with the view. The steak can be tough, I recommend the lobster.’

  She laughed. ‘Lobster! The only lobsters I’ve ever had were caught by a cousin who has some traps. They were heaven.’

  ‘The lobsters here won’t be as good as your cousin’s, but I rate them. You only live once, you know!’

  She was still high after the DNA result, which was indeed a cause for celebration. Suddenly she wanted to tell Brij about the success. But she couldn’t.

  ‘Okay, I’d love to have lobster. Are you celebrating something?’

  He chuckled. ‘What do you think I might be celebrating?’

  ‘Let’s see. A win in court?’

  ‘Not today.’

  ‘A new and very wealthy client?’

  ‘I wish!’

  ‘You’ve been promoted to chairman, or whatever your boss is called?’

  ‘Really, Susila, can’t you think about anything but work?’ He frowned, quizzical. He looked amused rather than irritated, though.

  ‘I give up.’

  ‘It’s my birthday.’

  Singh was embarrassed. ‘Brij, you should have said! I wish you a very happy birthday indeed.’

  The waiter brought champagne. Drops of condensation already covered the bottle, less than a minute out of the refrigerator. The label was sodden. He popped the cork and poured the fizzing wine into chilled glasses.

  ‘Here’s to you, Brij. Many happy returns.’ She raised her glass to touch his.

  ‘This is good, isn’t it? My birthday present to myself. Champagne and lobster.’

  ‘It’s an honour to share it with you. Thank you, Brij.’

  She couldn’t admit she’d never drunk champagne before. The bubbles somehow got themselves into the back of her nose. Brij finished his glass quickly. The waiter plucked the bottle from the silver ice bucket and poured him another.

  ‘Do they celebrate birthdays at your office?’ she asked.

  Brij swigged half his glass. ‘You do have a one-track mind, Susie.’

  She smiled in apology.

  ‘I’m interested in what you did on your birthday, Brij. I just assumed you were at work as it’s Tuesday. Did you take the day off?’

  ‘No, I was at work. The partners took us all to lunch. Nice of them, but it’s on the expense account.’ He shrugged.

  ‘Then my parents called. Mum said it’s high time I was married, now I’m thirty-nine.’

  She finished her champagne so she wouldn’t ask the wrong question again. This was not his usual easy-going mood. He seemed tense, resentful. Maybe they had too much alcohol at the work lunch. Maybe it was another year rolling over; next birthday he would be forty.

  She must remember he was not a suspect in an interview room. Change the subject.

  The arrival of the lobster saved her from putting her foot in it again. It was served in the shell, dressed with herb butter. As she savoured the delicate flavour, the melt-in-the-mouth texture, she saw the tension drain from Brij’s shoulders and neck. She was glad he had something to eat with his third and fourth glasses of champagne. Her head was already fizzing and she’d only started her second.

  Neither of them tackled their salads until the lobster was gone. The silence was no longer awkward, though. They gazed at the show-stopper sunset, entranced. At least, she hoped he was entranced.

  As the sun dipped towards the horizon, he said, ‘Don’t take your eyes off it or you’ll miss the green flash. Thump the table when you see it.’

  ‘Right.’

  They waited. It was a sliver of an instant, but she caught it. Brij thumped the table first. They smiled at each other.

  ‘Gelato?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ she said.

  ‘What do you expect from marriage, Susie?’

  Suddenly, she could confide. Maybe it was the champagne.

  ‘Love, companionship, babies, a home. Most of all love. To love and be loved.’

  ‘It would be nice, wouldn’t it?’ His voice was wistful.

  The lurid orange, red and gold intensified on the western horizon as they relished their dessert.

  ‘Thank you, Brij. I enjoyed your birthday so much. This place is special.’

  ‘Saturday night?’

  ‘On condition that I choose the place this time.’

  ‘Oh, alright. Where?’

  ‘Pizza Perfecta, near the cinemas. We could catch a film afterwards if I can get the time off.’

  ‘What? Don’t the criminals go out on Saturday night?’

  ‘They go out, but they’re working. That’s why the police have to work, too. I’m not rostered, but crime is unpredictable.’

  WEDNESDAY 20th September

  28

  Musudroka and Kau arrived mid-morning to find their shared desk covered with photo enlargements and sundry papers.

  Horseman was glad to see them. ‘Bula, we’ve got good news. A DNA match for Jimmy and search warrants approved and on their way to the magistrate.’ The two young detectives grinned, high-fived and gave him the thumbs up.

  ‘Don’t touch anything, guys.’ Singh warned. ‘I’m assembling all our evidence here. We’re going to blow Captain Shen out of the water with this. How can he argue that Jimmy disembarked in Suva when we show him the photos and the DNA?’
<
br />   ‘Why don’t you explain your sequence of evidence to these kids while you’re putting it in order, Sergeant Singh? Just think aloud. Part of their training. I’ll check my email for that DNA report one more time.’

  A uniform knocked and entered. Spotting Horseman, he said. ‘Sir, excuse me. You’ve got two visitors waiting at the counter. Mr Toby Shaddock and Captain Shen. Mr Shaddock asked me to give you this.’ It was a TTF business card with the message: Captain Shen is ready to see you. I will translate.

  Singh was still marshalling the evidence.

  ‘Oi lei! The captain’s here already? Well, I’m not ready to see him quite yet. Put them both in a free interview room, will you? Offer them tea. Say that I’ll speak to them as soon as I’m free.’

  ‘Musudroka! Whistle up a Mandarin interpreter who can get here within fifteen minutes. Kau, help DS Singh with whatever she needs.’

  *

  Captain Shen was wiry, weather-beaten. The skin of his face was dry and pock-marked, his coarse hair bristling straight out of his skull like a brush. He gave a stiff little bow when Horseman introduced himself, Singh and the interpreter.

  ‘Did you get my message, Inspector? I’m here as Captain Shen’s agent and interpreter.’

  ‘Vinaka, Mr Shaddock. You don’t have the right to represent the captain in a police interview as you’re not a solicitor, I understand.’

  Shaddock shook his head.

  Horseman continued. ‘However, I appreciate your cooperation so I invite you to remain and listen to the interview on condition that you do not speak unless I ask you to. Your advice will be useful as your port agent role seems to be all-encompassing.’